Archive of Our Own ^beta

 Old Ebonheart, the jewel of the east, a vast, walled Imperial city full of noble people, rich people, and Tarhiel. For all its wonders, temptations, and opportunities, Lilivah Dres, the recently declared Nerevarine, only has eyes for Tarhiel, court wizard and master sorcerer. The rest of the place might be a desert for all she pays attention to it, not that she's going to let Tarhiel know that, no, he's outwardly in her bad books for reasons discussed elsewhere.

Still, when things become a little too heated back in Vvardenfell over there being an incarnation of a dead hero prophesied to kill the false gods of the Tribunal business running around, and she just happens to coincidentally receive an urgent invitation to a grand ball being held in the grand Ebon Tower, complete with grand quarantine pass, then what is she to do but attend?

Getting there is simple thanks to the pass, and she's only ambushed ten times during her trip from Caldera to Ebonheart, Vvardenfell Ebonheart that is, the stripped down utilitarian version of mainland Ebonheart. The pair of Ebonhearts face each other across the Inner Sea, making the voyage an easy proposition. 

She's been invited to a man's home for dinner, essentially, but Lilivah takes no gift, aside from a chestful of soul gems, empty and full, which she doesn't intend to give to Tarhiel unless he makes some sort of satisfying declaration and apology for treating her the way he has. 

Having matured a bit since her baby days in Seyda Neen, she now has her pick of magic men, and doesn't need to settle for the ill-mannered Bosmer. Divayth Fyr is older and more powerful than Tarhiel, and if the man weren't involved with himself as hard as he is, Lilivah would be spoken for already. There's also Folms Mirel in Caldera, who rules his chapter of the Mages Guild from the basement, a feat Lilivah finds both impressive, and attractive. And then there's her first love, Socucius Ergalla, who possesses the quality of respectability. Sure, none of these three has yet demonstrated the ability or inclination to leap across the ocean like a flea, but one can't have it all.

 When one approaches ‘Old’ Ebonheart by boat, one has little choice but to be confronted by the docks and nearby slums, and one must then travel up a long curve to the main plaza, necessitating that one pass various taverns, businesses, guilds, manors, and the Grand Chapel of Talos, all very trepidatious places for an Adventurer by trade. Understanding this better than Lilivah herself does, Tarhiel has sent an armed escort to prevent her from becoming distracted by the many, many available quests on offer here, in the process failing to reckon with the flightiness and anxiety generated in a woman subject to constant assassination attempts.

“Okay, bye.” instead of hanging around to hear the rest of the shiny captain's long winded greeting and discourse on the importance both of the city, and Tarhiel himself, Lilivah casts levitate and floats away, towards the Ebon Tower, to the tune of a chorus of shouts.

“Telvanni wench!”

“Blasted Dunmer!”

“Fetcher mages!”

Not very polite, Lilivah will be sure to mention this as being another black mark against Tarhiel when she eventually gets to him. For a while all she does is jog through air smelling heavily of wood smoke, cooking food, and charcoal, slowly approaching the enormous tower and the castle it's a part of. It sits on an outcropping of rock, an island, and is highly confusing, featuring a switchback curtain wall for easy shooting of earthbound invaders. It's not even one tower, but many, all of them radiating clockwise from the one dedicated to Talos. No woman was involved in the design, that's for sure. 

In his letter, Tarhiel had mentioned that he has his domain in the top of Julianos’ Tower, but it still takes Lilivah an embarrassingly long time (and a few near misses with expiring levitate spells) to discover which one is Julianos’ Tower.

After accidentally breaking a grandmaster lock and blundering into a heavily restricted area in the Talos Tower, Lilivah flees in the right direction, her spell running out at the same moment as she spots a fancy moon and star decorated door glittering with magicka.

Moon and star…is this…a sign?? As a Chosen One, signs are her thing.

The door is unlocked, because only a magic user could get up here, a very dangerous magic user, or someone with a scroll or potion of levitation. Still, the last place a Telvanni expects to be murdered, is in his own tower.

Taking a moment to school her face into an imitation of stone and Dwemer brass and bronze, Lilivah opens the door, glowering like she has woken up to discover Dagoth Ur watching her while she was sleeping. The room she walks into is perfectly round, very very fancy, and full of incense to mask the hideous scents of experimentation. Tarhiel, who is wearing a thoughtful expression while fingering a sumptuous robe hanging on a hook on a room divider, is not the only inhabitant, an Imperial solider stands guard inbetween the study area and the the four poster bed, the canopy of which she can see over the top of the divider. Like the door, it is decorated with an astrological design. In an artificial corner near the door, sits the typical Telvanni emperor mushroom, growing in a tub, because even the court wizard is not allowed to turn the castle into a wannabe Aryon situation. Oh yeah, Aryon. Lilivah has dated him too.

Wary of the guard, she immediately attempts to leave, but Tarhiel notices her first, his expression shifting from critical thought, to delight, delight which he quickly squashes with his usual haughty look. He can't remove the faint blush from his cheeks, however.

“Aah, you again. I suppose I shouldn't be surprised.” he says, literally raising his nose into the air. It doesn't stop him being much shorter than she.

“Yes. Me.” redness likewise infuses Lilivah's skin, but a much more violent red than Tarhiel shows. It is quickly beaten out by white. The old arrogance no longer hits right, and before anything more can be said, she turns and leaves the way she arrived, tears starting in her red, red eyes.

                                                                                                              ❤️‍🔥

 Down in the palace, Lord Caros Cocceius, Castellan of the Ebon Tower and Burgrave of Old Ebonheart, is not too busy with party arranging, to ask Lilivah if she has any information on Tarhiel's location.

“He's been missing for a long time, a concerningly long time, perhaps a fatally long time, and I'm willing to pay a large bounty to anyone who has any verifiable information about our beloved Court Wizard. Would you happen to be such a one, Lilivah Dres? He's a good man, and has served here loyally for years and years. I'd hate to find out something's happened to him.”

Considering for a moment, which takes the form of a pursed lip and raised eye, both of which have a profoundly positive effect on Caros, Lilivah eventually says that yes, she does have information. 

“He's in his tower. Just returned, I think.”

The Castellan is the third person to turn pink in the last hour. “What?! Are you sure? Why this is fantastic news! We've been floundering in the dark here, but just as quickly as he disappeared, he's reappeared! The affairs of wizards are mysterious indeed. Oh, Lilivah Dres, here, take this as my thanks.” he gives her five hundred gold. 

Just as Lilivah's about to exit the palace and see about exploring the city, Tarhiel himself manifests out of thin air, catches hold of her sleeve, casts his gaze about the foyer, then casts recall. When Lilivah next blinks, she blinks around at the bedroom cum living cum workroom she so recently left. Apparently assuming she's about to counter him with a recall of her own, her abductor retains his surprisingly strong grip on her arm, which she doesn't mind in the least. The guard in the corner yawns.

“Please tell me you didn't tell Caros what happened when, when you and I first met.” 

Because Lilivah loves the little, annoying Wood Elf, she refuses to look into his eyes, preferring to inspect his bed. His recall point is right beside it, and from here she can see that he has a very very rare, valuable, and very very evil book about the Daedra Princes and their summoning, hidden under it, casually gathering dust.

“Look, I'm sorry for being all…myself earlier. I didn't specialise in social interaction. I had better things to do.”

Unable to tolerate it anymore, her emotions and tear ducts being stirred up by the reminder that were it not for luck, her evil little mushroom wizard would be dead, flat and exploded on some dirty swamp path, Lilivah leans down to kiss his cheek, before abruptly spinning out of his grip. The guard sighs. 

“I didn't tell him what happened. I only said you had returned.”

“...Huh?” stunned, as if by the blow of a silver mace, Tarhiel touches his cheek, confusion battling with wonder in his eyes.

“I said, I didn't tell the guy that you fell from the sky. I got the feeling that they'd tease you if I did.”

“...That's right…They think I'm a bit high and mighty. I’d never live it down…” suddenly things snap back into place for Tarhiel, and the old look of intelligent contempt pours back into his expression, but it's not aimed at Lilivah, but at the world in general. “Thank you. I, uh, meant to thank you earlier for…saving me. Here. I enchanted this just for you. It's to allow you to jump far and high, and land safely. It's obviously a modified version of the spell I demonstrated before. I call it the ‘Springheel Charm’. It'll save you a great deal on silt strider fees.” a charmed necklace of extravagant persuasion sits in the palm of his hand, which he holds out to Lilivah's back. 

With her feelings wrested a little more under control, she turns, smiling wide. It's not the first gift he's given her, but it's the first that feels natural and sincere. It's not too flashy or mannish, and it's useful. “Thank you, I love it.”

The pair of elves dither awkwardly and blush for a while, making the guard roll his eyes and smile. Hah, who knew it worked the same way for mer as it does for men? He assumed they reproduced by magic.

Tarhiel breaks the stalemate by indicating the fancy robe he'd been inspecting earlier. Its rose pink and delicately threaded with gold in the form of the flowers whose colour it takes. “I saw this while shopping last week and I thought you might find it suitable to wear for the ball. Of course, if you'd rather wear something else, that's fine too.”

“I love it. It's beyond beautiful.” 

“Just like you, my dear.” Tarhiel says, a moment before his brain catches up to his body and makes him slap a hand over his mouth. With his eyes bulging and his lips sealed, he indicates that Lilivah should give him a minute to inform Caros of his return, before he teleports out of the room and away from the embarrassment of giving voice to his true feelings.